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 ‘Another matter—why?’ asked Tess rather warmly.

‘Well—I would willingly do so if only we two were concerned. But I must not—for liturgical reasons.’

‘Just for once, sir!’

‘Really I must not.’

‘O sir, for pity’s sake!’ She seized his hand as she spoke.

He withdrew it, shaking his head.

‘Then I don’t like you!’ she burst out, ‘and I’ll never come to your church no more!’

‘Don’t talk so rashly, Tess.’

‘Perhaps it will be just the same to him if you don’t? Will it be just the same? Don’t for God’s sake speak as saint to sinner, but as you yourself to me myself—poor me!’

How the Vicar reconciled his answer with the strict notions he supposed himself to hold on these subjects it is beyond a layman’s power to tell, though not to excuse. Somewhat moved, he said in this case also—

‘It will be just the same.’

So the baby was carried in a small deal box, under an ancient woman’s shawl, to the church